Forbidden Love
by Amelie Isabella
Summary: Harry hits Draco with sectumsempra while dueling in the bathroom, causing him to rethink their entire relationship and why they've hated each other for so long. Picks up in the middle of HBP, ignores DH.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings in this story. All rights belong to JK Rowling and the Harry Potter franchise._

 _"Sectumsempra!"_

The resounding thud could mean only one thing -Harry's spell had met its mark. Tentatively, he crept around the corner of the destroyed cubicles, unsure of what he would find.

Draco lying on the ground in a pool of water mixed with his own blood was certainly not what he was expecting.

Harry's mouth went dry at the sight of the boy in front of him, blood seeping through his white shirt and gasping like a fish suddenly deprived of water. He watched numbly, unable to believe that this was what his spell had done. That he was

responsible for this suffering. Just as Harry was beginning to panic - the note-taker in his potions book hasn't mentioned how to undo this particular spell - Professor Snape appeared over Draco's unmoving body, muttering spells and counter-  
watched in amazement as the blood slowly began to seep back into his body, his breaths becoming less ragged and his life returning to him. Although he still lay there motionless, he was alive. _Thank God,_ Harry thought, before darting outof  
the bathroom to clear his head.

Harry's feet seemed to move of their own accord, walking steadily in a direction of their choosing. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Hagrid's hut, banging loudly on the door and demanding to be let in. The door opened a crack and he stumbledinside,  
not realizing how close he was to passing out. Alarmed at his shaken appearance, Hagrid pulled out a chair and forcefully sat Harry down.

"Wot th' devil are y'doin' out here? And at this time o' night? Ye' could get in big trouble fer this, 'arry, 'specially if one Professor Snape finds out," Hagrid said as he fussed about, trying to find some tea or ale to calm Harry's nerves.

"Snape won't find out,"Harry replied numbly, taking the cup Hagrid handed him but not drinking it. "Hagrid, I..." he began, but looked pained as he tried to say more. "I... I've done something wrong," he finally settled on, looking like there

was more to say but couldn't find the words to do so.

"Somethin' wrong? Wot do y'mean?" Hagrid replied, now sitting across from Harry and nervously wringing his great hands.

Harry proceeded to tell him all that had happened, from following Draco out from dinner to finding him crying in the bathroom and the ensuing duel which resulted in him bleeding out on the floor. The images of the blondeboy just lying there

motionless seemed seared on the inside of his eyelids, present even when he closed them and tried to block them out.

"Hagrid, I didn't mean to hurt him like that, I was just... it was an accident," Harry finished quietly, as if reliving the memory was more painful than actually experiencing it.

Forcing some of the hot liquid down his throat, Harry tried to convince himself that he was alright, that it was just a freak accident, and that by tomorrow, everyone would have forgotten about it.

He could not have been more wrong.

The next day at breakfast, the Great Hall was filled with the whispers of thosemore anxious to spread rumors than speak truth; those same whispers would seem to fade with each step Harry took, as if the conversations were not meant for hisears.  
Dropping heavily into his seat by Ron and Hermione, Harry lay into his eggs and sausage with an alarming vehemence.

"Don't forget to breathe, mate," Ron offered playfully, pausing from his own meal to consider his best friend. "Blimey, Harry, you look awful. What happened to you last night? You left at dinner and we haven't seen you since."

Harry knew his friend meant well, but he couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps he just wanted to know which of the rumors he'd heard was true. Nevertheless, he answered him truthfully, relaying all that had happened in hushed tones so as to keep unwelcome  
earsfrom hearing. When hewas finished, he could see the gears turning in both of his friends' heads, sorting out the rumors and comparing them to what they'd just been told. It was Hermione that spoke first, choosing her words carefully  
so asto keep an already bad situation from becoming worse.

"Harry," she began slowly, "what exactly happened between you and Malfoy? You've never been particularly fond of each other, but still, you've never been like this."

"Maybe we're just growing up, Hermione," Harry replied icily. He immediately feltbad for snapping, but her question had struck something inside of him that he didn't even know was there. What was it that had changed? _Had_ something changed?He  
was almost certain it had, but what? Irritated at himself for being unable to pinpoint exactly what it was that had changed between them - aside from being convinced that Draco was now a Death Eater - he vowed to retire to the commonroom until  
he had his head on straight. Gathering his belongings, he made his excuses and left the Great Hall, unaware of a pair of deep, grey eyes following him the entire way.


	2. Chapter 2

"Draco, I thought you were supposed to stay in the hospital wing," Pansy casually noted, trying to read her friend's expression as the Golden Boy left the Great Hall.

"Madam Pomfrey released me this morning," Draco replied coldly, his grey eyes never leaving Harry's back until the doors closed behind him. Forcibly tearing his gaze away, he resumed poking at his breakfast and sulking.

"Are you going to kill him?"

The sharpness of her question jolted Draco out of his reverie. His head snapped up at her, grey eyes burning. Pansy physically recoiled at the severe reaction, immediately apologizing and trying to calm him back down. But her question - innocent enoughas  
/it was - seemed to be too much for Draco to handle. He stormed out of the Great Hall, not unlike a certain dark-haired boy had done just a few minutes before.

Swinging the doors to the Great Hall open with gusto, Draco made for the dungeons -

And instead, ran smack into Harry Potter.

The surprise was evident on both boy's faces, but Draco's expression quickly turned to one of disgust. Practically snarling, he shoved past Harry with such force that he very nearly knocked him over, andalmost didn't notice how Harry's expressionchanged  
/from one of surprise to one of - had he imagined it? - pity and confusion. Almost.

Harry remained there for a moment longer, baffled by the encounter. Surely everyone knew that he and Draco had never liked each other, but this was strong even for him. Petty threats and constant insults were one thing, but Hermione was right... things _had_ escalatedthis  
/year. But _why?_

Draco hastily retired to the dungeons where he lay down on his bed, rubbing his temples. _Are you going to kill him?_ Pansy's question rattled around in his head, haunting him. Of course she was talking about Potter - who else would she be talkingabout?  
/- but her question was just another scathing reminder of what he was supposed to do. He had been asked to kill Dumbledore. He had been given that responsibility. But the thought of killing someone made him sick to his stomach. Draco had neverbeen  
/a killer - at heart, he would really rather avoid conflict if he could help it. So why couldn't he do this one thing?

His mind drifting to unpleasant thoughts, Draco decided to take a nap. Although it was only just after breakfast, he already felt exhausted. Settling into his bed and closing his eyes, he began to dream.

 _"I know you're there, Draco," a voice whispered from the dark. "Let us in, Draco. Let us all in."_

 _The voice belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange, his aunt. He could recognize the slithering skulk of her whisper anywhere. She was outside his door along with the rest of the Death Eaters, waiting to be let in. Waiting for him._

 _The scene changed. Suddenly he was standing on the astronomy tower, wand outstretched. But it wasn't Professor Dumbledore he was ready to kill; it was Harry. As he stared at his target, he felt his resolve begin to waver. It was as if the last six years of malice and petty hatred seemed to fade away, leaving only the boy with the messy hair and the bright green eyes standing before him. Innocent. Beautiful. Free._

Draco awoke with a start. His clothes were damp; he had been sweating. He rubbed his eyes, trying to forget the dream hestill remembered so vividly. Why the hell had Potter been in his dream? And why had he been trying to kill him? _Must've been because of Pansy,_ he  
/reasoned. But the more he thought about it, the morehe realized he could never kill Potter. In fact, it was almost as if his subconscious were... _grateful_ for him.

Draco scowled, disgusted with himself. Grateful for Potter - Merlin's beard. Perhaps he'd better check himself back into the hospital wing. Rubbinghis temples and resolving to see Madam Pomfrey that afternoon, he begrudgingly dragged himself out

of bed. As much as he hated being at school this year, he still had to keep up the appearance of being a student. It was nearly time for Transfiguration - not his favorite class, but at least he wouldn't have to try too hard. And most importantly,  
/the chances of seeing Potter were almost nonexistent.

After class, Draco made his way toward the hospital wing. His face in a constant scowl nowadays, he wasn't surprised to Madam Pomfrey cock an eyebrow at him when he entered.

"Feeling alright, Mr. Malfoy?" sheasked him, lips pursed as she attended to an unfortunate second-year after his first Quidditch match. "Not still feeling the effects of yesterday, are we?"

Draco paused, unsure of quite how to proceed. When he had made up his mind to see Madam Pomfrey, it had been with the intention of explaining his odd dream as a side effect of Potter's spell-casting the day before. Now that he was here, however, his logic  
/seemed slightly less sound.

"Just a bit of a headache, mum. Wanted to make sure it was nothing serious," he eventually settled on, cringing at how lame it sounded, even to him.

Raising an eyebrow but making no further comment, Madam Pomfrey cast some quick diagnosing spells over Draco before deeming him fit for class and sending him off with a healing draughtand advice to get more rest. Mumbling his thanks, Draco left

the infirmary before he could make a bigger fool of himself and hurried off toward the Great Hall for lunch.

Midway through his meal, a note fluttered down before him, landing neatly on his napkin and unfolding from a bird to a scrip of paper. It read:

 _You're physically healthy, but you are most certainly not alright. If something's troubling you, talk to Mistress Elmore. -MP_

Draco scoffed at the note. Talk to the school counselor? As if. The only reason Hogwarts had a counselor this year was because the parents of some first-year were insistent that their child have someone to talk to at all times. It was only a part-time  
/position and almost nobody took advantage of the service; still, Draco reasoned, she couldn't be a bad person to have around.

Mistress Elmore wasof average height, with hazel eyes and dark brown hair which she almost always kept tied back at the nape of her neck. Although her hair was streaked with grey and her face was starting to wrinkle, she was, by all appearances,

quite an attractive woman. A pair of spectacles resided constantly on the bridge of her nose, making her look more like a librarian than a counselor. The spectacles did give her one particular advantage, however; she had the uncanny ability to look  
/you right in the eye while simultaneously staring down at you, making every appointment with her equal parts interrogation and confession. Furthermore, Mistress Elmore was a Legilimens; that is, she could read minds. Although she did not advertise  
/this fact to her clients, she was always careful not to push too hard during appointments, lest she frighten them.

It was in front of this face that Draco now stood, unaware that his mind was being probed and his memories sifted through. If Mistress Elmore found anything of consequence, her face did not show it.

"What brings you here this afternoon?" she asked, seating herself across from him at the little table in her office. Draco relayed the message from Madam Pomfrey, adding that he personally didn't feel this was necessary.

"A little conversation never hurt anybody," Mistress Elmore assured him. "Now, what seems to be bothering you?"

Although it was never his intention to confide his deepest feelings in a perfect stranger, that is precisely what Draco found himself doing that afternoon is Mistress Elmore's office. Although he was careful to leave out any details concerning Lord Voldemort  
/and the Death Eaters, he spared nothing in the way of his current feelings - confusion, betrayal, tension, and moreconfusion. When he had quite finished, he realized his hands were shaking. _My father would kill me if he knew about this,_ he  
thought,

/taking deep breaths andtrying to steady himself.

"Mr. Malfoy," Mistress Elmore began, "I believe the majority of your problems can be solved by addressing your feelings rather than suppressing them. In particular, feelings of hatred and anger seem strong. However, these feelings cannot exist without  
/equally strong counterparts. That is, you can only hate someone as strongly as you can love them. The more you care for a person, the stronger your hatred can be. Although this is not true in all situations - one can certainly hate without love -  
/I believe it is true in yours. Your hate is masking your love, Draco. Address these feelings of love, and the tension will cease."

Mistress Elmore's words stuck with Draco for the rest of the day. Although he tried to dismiss them as being irrational and inaccurate, he couldn't shake the feeling that what she said was true. If that was the case, then what were these feelings of love  
/he was supposed to address? As a servant of the Dark Lord, he wasn't exactly practiced in the art of expressing his emotions - particularly the happy ones. Lost in thought, Draco almost missed the boy staring at him from across the Great Hall. Just  
/as he was about to eat, he glanced up, his neck prickling at the sight before him. The bright green eyes of Harry Potter met his stormy grey ones, and he suddenly began to understand that hatred and love were inexplicably tied.


	3. Chapter 3

A thousand thoughts raced through Harry's head as his eyes met Draco's across the Great Hall. Harry thought Draco had become a Death Eater - no, he was sure of it - but in that moment, something changed. He saw more of the boy he used to know; always  
superior, yet equally quick-witted and impish. The boy whose hand he rejected first year and who would meet him insult for insult. The boy who at one time, knew love.

In a flash, it was over. Draco averted his eyes and resumed his cold sulking, but something was definitely there. Perhaps there was more behind the Death Eater facadeafter all.

Draco felt a color rising to his cheeks as the thoughts _Harry Potter_ and _love_ crossed his mind at the same time. Surely this boy whom he despised he could not possibly love! Potter caused him nothing but pain and anguish, and had ever since  
the moment they met and he had chosen Weasley and Granger over him. Draco still couldn't wrap his mind around why he had been rejected so strongly that day - was he not a high-caliber wizard who came from a good family? Still, he had to admit that  
the Golden Trio looked well together, even if they were a constant inconvenience. It was becoming quite clear that Granger was infatuated with Weasley, even though he was constantly snogging that Lavender Brown. Draco was sure the two would be a couple  
by next year.

Draco had always prided himself on his ability to spot a couple before anyone else could, and it was just this skill he was thinking about when his eyes came to rest on none other than Harry Potter. Rumor had it that the Chosen One had a thing for Ginny  
Weasley, but Draco wasn't so sure. In his months of scouting out the castle for his part in the Dark Lord's plan, he had become quite adept at noticing things others did not. One thing in particular he had noticed was the unusual amount of time Ginny  
was spending with Luna Lovegood. Although this in itselfwas of nogreatconsequence, it was a little-known secret around the castle that Luna was into girls. This led Draco to believe that perhaps the She-Weasel felt the same way,  
or was at least open to the idea.

Draco himself had always been open about his sexuality and the fact that he liked blokes. He had known for a while, and although he didn't advertise it, many people knew. The wizarding world was quite accepting of the gay community, so Draco never felt  
any pressure to act or think a certain way that was untrue to the way he felt. Potter, however, had grown up in the Muggle world, where people were far less accepting of non-heterosexuals. Draco had often wondered if perhaps Potter wasn't quite as  
straight as he seemed, but he had no definitive proof.

Gazing at him across the Hall, Draco wondered again whether Potter might be gay. It would be unfortunate if he was - Draco had always found Potter attractive, albeit somewhat of a git. Now would be an unfortunate time to find out he was available, as  
Draco had more important things to worry about. Still, the word _love_ kept nagging at him, and the more he stared, the more he came to realize the awful truth: he was in love with HarryPotter.

Unbeknownst to him, Harry was having very similar thoughts at his own table. For a long time Harry had struggled with his sexuality, but just in the past several months he had come to terms with it: he just wasn't into girls. This created an interesting  
atmosphere for him around the castle; now that he was comfortable admitting he liked blokes, every male in the castle had become infinitely more attractive. Draco, in particular, had captured his fancy; although he would never admit it, he missed  
the banter they had had throughout the years. Without the constant insults, he didn't know how to talk to him. Part of him knew he shouldn't - after all, Draco now served the one person who was forever trying to kill him - but he still found himself  
infatuated with the blond, unable to keep his thoughts from drifting to places they ought not to go. _Maybe that's what's changed_ , he thought bitterly. _He knows I'm in love with him and he hates me for it as much as I hate myself._

Still, Harry couldn't keep the silence forever. He'd cursed Draco and accidentally landed him in the hospital wing, so that at least deserved an apology. He still felt like he was going to vomit every time he thought about Draco's nearly lifeless  
body lying on the bathroom floor, so he decided to craft a letter explaining his feelings. Certain that this would help clear the air and perhaps help the recurring nightmares of that night to cease, he pulled out a piece of parchment and began  
to write.

 _Draco,_

 _I know what you've become. Don't ask me why I'm trying to save you, but you're better than this. I'm sorry about the other night. I didn't know what that spell would do. I miss talking to you. Please speak to me again._

 _-HP_

 __

Folding up the parchment, Harry cast a quick delivery spell on it and watched it flutter across the Great Hall to land in front of Draco. He, too, had watched the parchment flit into the air and was dumbfounded when it landed in front of him. Incredulous,  
he opened it.

Draco stared at the letter for what was probably far too long, unable to comprehend what he had just read. _Potter_ misses _me?_ Unsure of just how to proceed, Draco pulled out a piece of parchment of his own.

Harry watched in anticipation as Draco read his note for an unnervingly long amount of time, and actually felt his heart skip a beat when he pulled out a piece of parchment presumably to respond. Harry watched the blond write for what felt like an  
eternity, and watched anxiously as the parchment fluttered down to land gently in front of him. Practically tearing it open, Harry read his response.

 _You're a piece of work, Potter. I suppose I can make some time for you. Library, 3:00. Don't be late._

 _-DM_

 __

Harry felt like his heart might beat right out of his chest. Taking deep breaths, he tried to convince himself that this wasn't that big of a deal. Deep down, however, he knew this was the one thing he had been craving all year: a conversation with  
Draco Malfoy.

3:00 couldn't come soon enough. Harry arrived 10 minutes early, unable to contain his excitement any longer. At 3:00 precisely, Draco waltzed into the library and over to the table where Harry sat, waiting.

"Please tell me you didn't say you _missed_ me, Potter."

Although Draco's words stung, this was a starting place, Harry thought hopefully.

"Actually I did, Malfoy, but only because I knew it would get your attention." This was a lie, but Draco didn't need to know that. Not yet, at least.

"What, are you trying to lure me in so you can bend me over andtake me violently behind the stacks?" Draco retorted, snorting. He would never admit how amazing that sounded.

Harry tried to keep the color out of his face as he, too, thought of how pleasant it would be to do exactly that. But no, he was just trying to establish a relationship. He'd have to try and hide the bulge in his pants for now.

"I just want to talk, Malfoy," Harry replied. Draco politely ignored the hitch in his voice and his subtlereadjusting of his trousers.

"About?" Draco prompted, unsuccessfullytrying to keep his mind from going places it shouldn't.

Struggling to find the right word, Harry eventually blurted out, "Us."

 _That_ came as a surprise. Draco had expected many things from this impromptu meeting, but this was not one of them. If he wasn't mistaken, it almost sounded like Potter was talking about them as a _couple._ Draco tried to remain casual,  
but internally his mind and heart were racing. Could it be? Was he really that lucky? Then again, this was rather poor timing; still, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to get with Harry Potter.

Forcibly lowering his voice in order to sound more calm, Draco replied by saying, "Us? I didn't realize there was an 'us,' Potter. We've hated each other for years. Last time I checked, there wasn't an 'us' to speak of."

"Yes, well," Harry answered, choking slightly on his words, "I want there to be an us. I'm tired of hating you for no reason, and even though I know you're one of them now, you don't have to be. You can choose to be one of us instead. You can choose  
me."

Harry could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth. Was he confessing his love to Draco Malfoy, while simultaneously calling him out on being a Death Eater?

Draco's cheeks colored, unable to hide the shock and embarrassment from his face. This certainly sounded like a confession of love, but it also sounded like an accusation. What, Draco wondered, is the appropriate response to this? Finally realizing  
that he was taking far too long to respond, Draco answered him in the only way he knew how: by telling Potter to go stuff it and high-tailing it out of there, leaving Harry sitting alone.

Just as he had crossed the threshold into the now-empty corridor, Draco felt a hand on his shoulder. He was suddenly whirled around and greeted with the most wonderful kiss he had ever received - from the one person he knew he shouldn't be receiving  
it from.

"Potter, we can't - " Draco began, but was quickly silenced with another kiss.

"I know," Harry responded, breathless. "I hate it too. But I can't help that I'm in love with you." 


	4. Chapter 4

" _You're in_ _ **love**_ _with me?!"_ Dracosputtered. Harry didn't expect to be met with such vehemence; he hadn't meant to confess his love quite so bluntly, but he had, and he was rather hoping for a less violent response.

Taken aback, Harry stepped away. "I- I'm sorry- " he began, fear blossoming in his chest. "I didn't mean- "

He was cut off by Draco's harsh scowl movingjust inches from his face. His grey eyes sparked with an intense passion, masking the fear and anger within. _"Stay away from me, Potter,"_ he hissed, his breath warm on Harry's face. Whirling back  
around, he stalked away, leaving Harry breathless and confused.

Retreating to the Slytherin common room, Draco's head was spinning. His breath was ragged, coming in short gasps, and his mind was reeling. Did Harry Potter really just kiss him? And did he really just fuck it up?

Shoving hurriedly past Crabbe and Goyle, who were too dense to realize anything was amiss, Draco headed straight for his bed. Collapsing onto the sheets, he found himself comforted by the green and silver curtains. They were familiar. They felt like home. _And so did kissing Harry Potter,_ his  
mind interjected. Exasperated, Draco grabbed his pillow and pulled it tightly over his ears, as if he could will the forbidden thoughts away. _There is nothing more aggravating,_ he thought, _than becoming hopelessly entangled with the one person you are not allowed to love._ But  
he did. He loved the dark-haired boy deeply, Merlin knew why. 

* * *

The yearwore on relentlessly, both boys drawing farther and farther into themselves, albeit for very different reasons: Harry out of unrequited love, and Draco out of intense guilt and fear. Harry had been helping Professor Dumbledore hunt horcruxes,  
but he found he knew surprisingly little about them. Draco, on the other hand, knew nothing of horcruxes or Harry and Dumbledore's little adventures; rather, he was preoccupied with the task Lord Voldemort had assigned him: killing Professor Dumbledore.  
He hated himself for it, but he couldn't dissapoint his father. After all, he had taken an oath; he was one of Them now. He had to conplete the task, no matter how awful. He considered going to see the counselor again, but was afraid of revealing  
too much, so he suffered silently, quietly dying.

It was nearing the end of term, and Draco knew he had to act now or never. The other Death Eaters were planning an attack on the school, and it was his job to get them inside. Thanks to the Vanishing cabinets in the Room of Requirement and Borgin and  
Burke's, this was possible. Still, Draco was afraid. He grew frailer and more agitated by the hour, to the point where he was unable to go to any of his classes. Schoolwork was no longer a priority, and besides, who would miss him anyway?

Harry had noticed Draco's increasingly frequent absences from their classes and meals. Although he had vowed to hate the wicked boy for all he was worth, he still found himself acutely aware of his thoughts drifting to the blonde more often than not.  
He was often able to curb these thoughts and keep them within the realm of hatred and revenge, butthe occasional good one would slip through; a memory of one of Draco's rare smiles; the feeling of their lips crashing together in a ridiculous  
first kiss; pity for all he must be going through. That night as he went to bed, Harry was unable to keep the good thoughts away. He drifted off to sleep, dreaming of blonde hair and grey eyes.

 _It was first year; they had just entered the castle for the first time. Draco had extended his hand, and instead of refusing it, Harry took it._

 __

 _The scene changed; it was second year, and the gang was all together - with one additional member. Draco and he were friends, galavantingabout the castle with Ron and Hermione and getting into all sorts of mischief. They were happy._

 __

 _The scene morphed once more; it was sixth year, and Draco was telling Harry all about his father and what they wanted him to do. He was scared. Harry embraced him as a close friend, vowing to keep him safe and protect him._

 __

Harry awoke slowly, gradually becoming aware of what was reality and what was not. To his dismay, this beautiful relationship he'd had with Draco was not; still, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that _that could be_ , if only they had the chance.

Unable to fall back asleep, Harry dressed quickly and set out for a walk about the castle. He wasn't worried about getting caught at this hour, and besides, he had his dad's old Cloak on him should he meetanyone. Wandering aimlessly down the halls,  
Harry found himself outside Myrtle's bathroom in no time at all. He shuddered, remembering the last time he was here and all that had transpired. He entered slowly, but stopped when he heard someone crying. At first, he thought it must be Myrtle,  
but after listening further, he realized her wails were far too distinct to be the soft whimpering he heard now. Tiptoeing, so as not to disturb the other inhabitant, Harry made his way around the corner and toward the occupied stall.

The person crying must have heard him, for the whimpers stopped abruptly as Harry got close. _Odd,_ he thought, _that almost sounds... familiar._ Creeping a bit further, Harry was very nearly taken out by a haphazardly cast hex coming from the  
occupied stall.

"Hey!" he cried out in surprise, reaching for his wand. Although the caster had yet to act again, he was going to be ready.

Harry watched with wideeyes as the door to the occupied stall began to open. First a foot, then a leg, followed by a body and eventually a head appeared; the person had their face cast down, but even the dim lighting of the bathroom could not disguise  
that hair.

"Draco?" Harry said, honest surprise in his voice. Draco's head snapped up, obviously not expecting to meet the Golden Boy. He looked as if he were about to make a snarky comment, but the fight just left his body; he had nothing left.

"Potter," Draco muttered, shifting his gaze away from that beautifully unruly hair and tantalizingly green eyes. He seemed not at all alarmed at their meeting, considering the circumstances. Then, to Harry'sgreat surprise, Draco began to cry again.

The tears flowed freely; Draco's body was racked with sobs, and Harry felt the intense urge to wrap him in a hug, despite his status as a Death Eater. _Must be residual from the dream,_ he surmised. As he watched, however, he could not shake the feeling;  
finally, when he could bear it no longer, he closed the space between them in two quick steps and wrapped his arms around Draco before he could protest.

At first, Draco stiffened; gradually, however, he relaxed into the other boy's arms and resumed sobbing. His own arms soon found their way around Harry's waist, and they stood like that for quite some time, Draco resting his head on Harry's shoulder and  
cryinguntil there were no tears left.

Slowly, Draco untangled himself from the other boy, refusing to make eye contact. Harry, however, was not about to let this moment pass by unnoticed. Cupping Draco's chin in his hand, he raised his face until they could see each other eye to eye; when  
grey met green, it was all over. Draco found himself sharing everything, from being a Death Eater to his mission to kill Dumbledore - a mission that was to be fulfilled the following night. Although there was no mention of his feelings for Harry,  
enough was felt to make up for it.

Harry stood for a long time, trying unsuccessfully to process all that he'd just heard. Draco, for his part, was trying simply not to panic. It was a lot to take in, but it felt incredible to have it off of his chest. Eventually, Harry moved as if to  
speak.

"We have to stop this," was eventually what he settled on. Seeing the panic on Draco's face, he realized this may not have been a wise choice. "The attack on Hogwarts, I mean," he added quickly, relieved to see the other boy visibly relax.

"I know," Draco replied, his voice hoarse from all the crying. "If I don't open the Vanishing Cabinet, then they can't get in. That won't be the end of it, though. They'll find another way."

Taking Draco's hands in his own, Harry replied, "I know. But we'll fight this. Together. I can't ignore you any more, and I certainly can't hate you. I love you, Draco, and we need to end this."

Draco's heart swelled in his chest. After all this - all he'd done, all they'd been through, years of hatred - Harry Potter was still standing there saying he loved him. It was a wonderful feeling, one that Draco was finally willing to give in to.

"I love you, too, Harry," Draco replied. The accompanying smile was weak, but sincere. After a pause, he added,"I've loved you for a long time."

Harry's lips met Draco's in a soft kiss, the kind that both comforts and excites simultaneously. Pulling back, Harry smiled. Even though Hogwarts was under imminent attack, Voldemortwas still out there trying to kill him, and nobody in the world  
would understand the relationship he had with the beautiful boy standing in front of him, he was happy. Really, genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. And for that moment, nothing else mattered. 


	5. Chapter 5

Draco's face suddenly fell and the little color he had left drained from his face as his eyes alighted on something - or someone - behind Harry. His eyes got wide and he dropped Harry's hands, suddenly becoming the panicked and fearfulboyhe had been all year. Harry, now acutely aware of his surroundings and their particular situation, did a double take before whirling around, wand outstretched. To his surprise, Professor Snape stood before him, looking as surprised as his impassive face would allow.  
style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.301961); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"

"Mr. Potter," he intoned, successfully masking any emotion he might be feeling. "I don't suppose you and Mr. Malfoy are practicing potions at this hour, so what exactly are you doing wandering about the castle?" He cocked one eyebrow inquisitorially, looking from one boy to the next, awaiting an explanation.

"We weren't wandering about the castle, sir," Harry supplied with no small amount of bitterness after Draco made it quite clear he was incapable of speaking.

"No?" Professor Snape responded after a moment. "Then perhaps you were up to something?" Each word carried its own weight, as if he were in no hurry to get the two of them back to bed.

Draco and Harry exchanged glances, unable to come up with an acceptable response. They were suddenly glad for the dim lighting, as it masked the color in each of their cheeks. Snape, seeing no obvious response readily available and both boys neglecting to say anything useful, assigned them both detention to be servedtomorrow evening.

Looking pointedly at Draco, he added, "Mr. Malfoy will serve detention with me, as he is of my house. Mr. Potter, you will serve detention with Professor McGonagall, as she is head of yours."

Draco felt intense panic rising in his chest; if he was serving detention with Snapetomorrow evening, then he had to open theVanishingCabinet and kill Dumbledore; he wouldn't have a choice. And Harry wouldn't even be there to help him through it! Harry was also feeling the pressure, albeit slightly less than Draco. He was going to have to find a way to see Draco during detention tomorrow, that much was certain. 

Breathlessly, Harry re-entered the Gryffindor common room. His mind was racing and he desperately needed someone to bounce ideas off of - unfortunately, everyone else was in bed and wouldn't even begin to understand. Agitated and unsure of what to  
do next, Harry threw himself onto his four-poster and tossed and turned until the first rays of dawn began to shine through the heavy curtains obscuring the windows. As soon as day began to break, he anxiously got up, glad to have free roam of  
the castle again. The fact that he was still wearing the same robes as yesterday seemed inconsequential compared to the fact that the castle was about to be stormed by Death Eaters and Dumbledore killed by the boy whom he loved.

Seemingly on autopilot, Harry found himself in the owlery - a place he was sure not to encounter anyone. Hedwig flew over to him, alighting on his arm. Even amongst all the turmoil, Harry could always rely on Hedwig to restore him to a sense of calm.  
His head began to clear amongst the quiet sounds of the birds, and he felt a plan begin to form. Even if he was in detention, he might be able to prevent the attack - but he was going to need some help. Pulling out a piece of loose parchment,  
Harry scrawled a note and attached it to Hedwig's leg.

"Quick now, Hedwig," Harry whispered as she flew off into the brisk morning air. The sun broke over the horizon just as she disappeared from sight; unable to wait for a reply, Harry wandered back towards the castle, thinking and wondering what one  
blonde-haired boy might be doing right at this moment.

Draco awoke - he had collapsed from sheer exhaustion just moments after entering his room - and had just one moment of peace before the absolute dread of what today held set in with full force. Eyes growing wide with terror and fingers gripping the  
sheets he lay on, Draco felt paralyzed. Getting up would mean accepting his fate; ignoring it would seal it. Only the thought of seeing Harry aroused him enough to get out of bed. Slipping silently through the halls, Draco debated what his next  
move should be. Seeing as he didn't know where Harry was and had little chance of seeing him without arousing suspicion, he was going to have to wait until breakfast; seeing as that was still an hour or two off, he had some time to kill. _And that's not theonlything,_ his  
mind muttered darkly. He set out for a brisk walk about the courtyard to clear his head, desperately hoping to meet the dark-haired boy along the way.

Circumstances were not so lucky; the two did not again meet until breakfast, at which point all they could exchange was meaningful glances.

"Where ya been, mate?" Ron greeted Harry roughly as his best friend joined him at the table.

"Morning walk," Harry replied distractedly, eyes darting constantly to the Slytherin table. "I went to see Hedwig."

"Hedwig? That's what got you out of bed so early? Bloody hell, that bird means more to you than my sister!" Ron replied, seeking to get a rise out of Harry but remaining unsuccessful. A sharp jab from Hermione curbed his efforts; soon the three were  
eating in silence, Ron and Hermione pointedly avoiding the fact that Harry seemed far more interested in Draco than them.

Unable to refrain from seeing him any longer, Harry stood up suddenly from the table. The movement drew everyone's attention, but he had eyes only for Draco; a look passed between them, and soon the two were darting out of the Great Hall together,  
much to the surprise of the other students. Rumors began flying almost immediately, almost none of which were true. Draco and Harry payed them no mind, however, as they had far more important things to discuss.

"I had to see you," Harry whispered, pulling Draco close and holding him tightly.

Draco returned the embrace, replying, "I know. I had to see you, too."

Draco kissed Harry lightly on the cheek before pulling away. His skin was paler than usual, and his cheeks were sallow. The once sparking grey eyes were now dull, and his hair was matted and unclean. Draco looked a mess, to be sure, but inside he  
was warmer than he had ever been. Terrified, yes, but still glowing at the attention he was receiving.

Pulling him over to a side corridor, Harry whispered, "I have a plan." Before he could begin to explain it, however, Hedwig showed up with a letter. Tearing it open, Harry grinned.

"Perfect," he said hopefully, "this is just what I need."


End file.
